


the fine line between love and self-destruction

by emeraldsapphic



Series: you, me, and the songs that keep me up at night; [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Album: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Song Lyrics, aka max is insecure and dan takes care of him, but the good kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsapphic/pseuds/emeraldsapphic
Summary: Love.He had never experienced a lot of it.Just a few instances, a few times.Max goes through all the love he has received in his life, and one of them stands out from the others.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Series: you, me, and the songs that keep me up at night; [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973971
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	the fine line between love and self-destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Harry Styles's song Fine Line.

Love.  
He had never experienced a lot of it.  
Just a few instances, a few times.

His first love. His mother. 

The first love of every baby, every child, every human. The most powerful and lasting and incredible feeling.

Max loved her, he really did. He just wished he had shown her more during the years.  
He had been such a cold child, never pronouncing any word of affection his mother definitely deserved.

For putting up with him. For putting up with his father.  
His mother deserved a trophy, or a reserved spot in heaven, or both. 

She blamed herself. She blamed herself for letting his father take control of his life, for the way she had never had any say in Max’s childhood. 

He had blamed her too in the past a few times. When the veil over his eyes disappeared. When Max realized there was more to life than cars.

He hated having blamed her even for a second. His mother had suffered so much, there was no way he could put his daunting childhood on her, too.  
They had talked, once, not quite enough. Unspoken apologies and soft hugs. Max wished he had not fucked up his relationship with his mother so early on. It seemed unrepairable, and maybe it wasn't, but Max found in himself absolutely none of the strength needed to face that particular discussion, yet.

He was used to distracting himself, to take his mind off of anything that could potentially cause him added anxiety that he didn't need.  
All of his focus had to be directed somewhere else. Somewhere analytic, somewhere not too personal, somewhere he didn't have to risk his heart. 

Racing. His second love.

It was love that didn't need emotional commitment. It was love that rewarded. Blood, sweat, and tears were traded for something concrete. Fame, glory, money.

He was born to race. He breathed and lived to race. Max sometimes joked he might as well have been born on a track, considering his family history.

He had started karting before he could even tell the time on a clock, before properly writing his own full name, before understanding what he was getting himself into.

And since then, everything in his life had screamed racing.  
Cars, karts, speed, time, tracks, tires.

For a while, he had felt extremely grateful to his parents.  
At least until the words surrounding his life became more and more chaotic. Spiraling him into pressure and too high expectations.

Champion, next promise, golden boy, not enough, faster, more, more, more.

Impending doom.

Jos Verstappen stood in his mind, tall and rigid. Shouting, angry, violent.

He deserved no place in Max’s love list.

Max had been blinded by sheer admiration for too many years. Mistaking demanding and insisting behavior for love.  
His father lived his dreams through him, Max had realized one day, between an argument gone too far and another.

He would have probably kept following him blindly in his destructive trap, but life had its ways of making people suffer, and it succeeded to ruin his happiness when it forced him to face the horrible situation he was stuck in. When Max woke up from the dream he was living, he realized it had been a nightmare all along.

Nothing felt good anymore. But then again, did it ever? Was anything ever truly satisfying? Was his life ever fulfilling?

_Put a price on emotion  
I'm looking for something to buy_

People had pointed it out, the way nothing seemed to excite him anymore. Podiums, wins, fastest laps. Yes, he yelled on the radio, pushed by running adrenaline, but when he got out of the car, limbs shaking, he forgot what excitement was.

He joked about it with friends - did they classify as friends? ...a few of them did - it was the Dutch, the Belgian cold attitude.

Only one person knew. Only one person made it better.

Daniel.

Max couldn't fathom to fully describe Daniel.

His name was the sweetest thing Max could ever pronounce. His laugh was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

He breathed in, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to his right.  
Looking at him, sleeping soundly, Max felt like the luckiest man alive.

He looked at him through the late-night bliss - or was it early morning? 

Max was in love.  
Deeply in love.  
Madly in love.  
With that love that binds you to lunacy, drops you into insanity.  
The kind of love that hurts, that kills, that leaves you breathless.  
The love that makes you want to suffer because the pain feels good. The pain is what keeps you going, what drives you insane. 

And Max was numb without that pain. He was not himself without it. Without the edge, without the desperation, Max was nothing.

It suddenly hurt to breathe.  
It always seemed to hurt to live.  
In some way or another, Max was in pain, unless he felt apathetic- but then again, wasn't the lack of pain a kind of pain in itself? 

Numbness was different, unique, _original._ Much harder to deal with and much more deceitful.

_You've got my devotion  
But man, I can hate you sometimes_

A snake eating his heart away.

The heart that longed for one man only.  
His heart didn't beat to keep him alive, it beat so that Max could love him. 

Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. 

His mind blank of anything else. Anything else other than him. 

His toned arms carefully wrapped around him, his tan and glowy skin he was lucky enough to feel the softness of, his tasty, careful lips he was fortunate enough to kiss, to feel on his neck, on his stomach, on his soul.

Max watched him as he slept, under him, always protecting him, always making sure he was warm enough, comfortable enough, _loved enough_.

And God - if God even existed - did Max love Daniel for it. 

He felt his breathing, his chest rising under him against his own, the air he exhaled softly caressing his temple as he laid completely in awe, merely resisting the urge to cry.

Daniel was everything and Max was nothing.

He waited to be filled with emotions, the sleeping prince next to him his only source of light.

_You sunshine, you temptress  
My hand's at risk, I fold_

He was the sun, and Max was the moon, merely reflecting his energy, incapable of creating any himself. Stuck in darkness if not in his presence.  
A shadow.

He would never fully grasp how Daniel could love him. That's what he said, at least.  
Not like Max fully believed him.  
He couldn't even say 'yet', would he ever be convinced? 

A not-so-tiny voice in his head told him he would never be enough for Daniel, and that Daniel deserved better, better than him for sure, but better than anyone else, too.  
So maybe, he wondered, if Daniel could never find a person truly worthy enough for him, he surely could do the job - almost as if he was made to fill in the gap.  
As long as Daniel was happy, he had to be too - but was Daniel truly happy? Would he tell him if he wasn't?

Max's breath started shortening. He felt a familiar tightness in his chest, a tingle in his face, diving itself between his eyes and nose.

Max didn't want to cry. He didn't want to wake Daniel up. 

He tried to breathe slowlier, tried to regain his composure, then he made the mistake to look at him.

Daniel sleeping, sweet, lovely Daniel that looked so peaceful and so beautiful. 

A hiccup sneaked up on him, ruining his plans and waking the sleeping prince next to him.

Through the darkness of Max's room, he saw Daniel's sleepy eyes open slowly and painfully.

"Max?"

He was sure he saw Daniel's eyes widen, and he fully understood when he felt his hands wiping away tears he had not realized he had been shedding.

"Babe, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

"No. I was just thinking."

Daniel turned on the small lamp on the nightstand next to his side and checked his phone.

"Thinking? Max, it's almost five in the morning, and you're crying." There was no accusatory tone in his voice.

"Oh, sorry, last time I checked it wasn't this late."  
Had it already really been three hours? Had his mind tortured him for that long?

"Maxy, what’s wrong? Talk to me."

5 PM Daniel would have laughed, he would have joked, _'Oh, so you think now? How's that going for you?'_

5 AM Daniel, instead, caressed his head, held him close, and whispered concerned questions.

He loved both sides, both behaviors. One people were used to seeing, the other not so much. Max was lucky enough to see this part of Daniel. The luckiest in the world.

Max breathed in and closed his eyes.  
Daniel kissed his heavy and wet eyelids.  
Max fell in love with him all over again.

Daniel's curls were messy and fluffy, his eyes slightly puffy, his voice rough and low.

An ethereal being.

Max lost himself in the sight before replying, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. It's late, you should sleep."

"Max," his voice hardened a bit, "you're awake at five, crying. I don't think it's nothing."

"I- I just- Nothing happened. I just got overwhelmed."

Daniel's eyes softened, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe tomorrow morning?"

"Ah, Max," he laughed, "you know yourself you won't want to talk about it tomorrow morning."

A small smile reached his lips. Daniel was right.

"The thing is- I love you."

"Well, for that I am glad, love. I believe we've discussed this a few times already." Daniel lightly joked, succeeding in making Max smile.

A glimpse of afternoon Dan.

Then the concerned question, "'Cause you know I love you, right?"

Late-night Daniel.

"I know" - did he? - "Sometimes it's just hard for me to fully accept."

"Oh, Maxy."  
Daniel pulled him in a tighter embrace.  
“I love you so much.”

“I am sorry if it seems like I don’t trust you-”

“Shh, none of that nonsense. I know this is not really about me.” 

Daniel was right.

"You have to accept that you are very much lovable and that you fully deserve to be happy. No matter what _someone_ has told you in the past." 

_Someone._

Daniel was right again. He knew Max too well.

"Please, Max. Talk to me if there's something wrong. I want to be there for you. I need to be sure you're aware of that. I want to make sure you're happy and safe, and that you feel loved enough. Because that's what you deserve."

Max simply nodded.

"So, next time, will you tell me if there's something wrong?"

"But there's nothing wrong."

" _Max._ "

"Yeah, okay, sorry."

"Don't apologize, love. It's fine."

"But I mean it. Nothing can ever be wrong with you."

"And I feel the same way."

Max fought the urge of asking if it was an honest feeling, but Daniel didn't need the words explaining Max's hopeful and suddenly childlike eyes.

"I love you. And if you ever forget, or if your mind feels like pulling tricks on you, then just tell me, and I'll gladly remind you." As he spoke, Daniel left a kiss on the tip of Max's nose.

Max laughed, and Daniel's eyes lit up the room around them.

"You taught me how to love, Daniel."

"Max, that's not true. You just don't teach someone how to love."

"Well, you did. And I hate you for it," Max laughed, only half-serious.

"You hate me? I thought you loved me," Daniel kept teasing.

"Loving you hurts."

"Max."

Midnight Dan.  
Concerned.  
Caring.  
Perfect.

"But it's good, right? Love is supposed to hurt a bit, no? Without the pain- without you - I'd be nothing." Max never thought he'd have found the courage to admit it. Perhaps the time on the clock was complicit, throwing filters and shame out of the window.

"Max, you're not nothing. You're everything to me." Daniel looked at him with eyes that could have lit multiple fires. "Besides, it hurts to love you, too. I think you're right, love is painful, but it's what keeps us going. It's worth it, right?"

_We'll be a fine line  
We'll be alright _

"Yeah."

"Lovely, right?" A stupid grin appeared on Daniel's lips.

"Shut up." Max laughed and jokingly shoved him.

"Make me."

A laugh.  
A kiss.  
Midday and midnight Daniel mixed together.  


Max's biggest love.

_We'll be alright_

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! this is the first installment in my new series, each fic inspired by a different song, so look forward to it in the future.
> 
> feedback always helps! :)
> 
> find me on tumblr: [@racinglesbian](https://racinglesbian.tumblr.com/)


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